Letter from an Aborted Child by Dan Gura
Have you ever wanted to ask a man a question and had God answer it with a miracle?
Mind you I'm not talking about God answering a prayer, but rather Him personally answering questions which I intended to ask in an interview. Yes, you did not misread that sentence. God answered my questions in the most incredible way possible; He showed me His amazing Grace in action.
I'm so excited over what I witnessed that I'm getting ahead of myself so let me return to the beginning.
A week ago I attended a Sidewalk Counseling Seminar (1) at the Pro-Life Action League. Ann Scheidler closed the very educational class by introducing an exciting new approach which Fr. Stephen Lesniewski, of Immaculate Conception Church, recently started using at American Women's Medical Center (a/k/a abortion mill). It was a recording of a young boy reading the following Letter from an Aborted Child. Fr. Lesniewski hands the parents (2) a copy of the Letter and a CD player and asks them to listen to it before they keep their appointment with the abortionist.
Letter from an Aborted Child:
I am writing this letter to all mothers that have aborted a child. I, a victim, write this letter from all of us who have died in the hands of evil. I want to tell all mothers to stop crying for our absence because we are fine here. Our dad, God, is happy to have us, however we would be happier if we were with our parents. We are very happy and pray to God for you, mothers, so that you would not abort more children, neither would you allow more children to die this way. I want to tell you my story and tell all mothers the reality of abortion.
I remember very well the moment that separated me from the most beautiful living paradise; the moment that a machine detached me from my mother's womb. I had just finished eating and was ready to go to sleep, as usual. Listening to my mother talking I heard a strange voice. This voice projected me fear and I cried. I remember my mother feeling uneasy and scared as I felt her heart beat going up rapidly. I felt a huge device approaching me. I remember yelling, "Mommy! Mommy! What are you doing to me?"
All of a sudden I felt this device trying to reach me to destroy me. Impatiently I yelled again much louder. With all my strength, I clung to the most beautiful thing I had, my mother. I remember very well thinking to myself, "Why are you the most beautiful woman in the world, the one with a loving heart and full of tenderness, doing this?"
I was only a defenseless baby, or a "piece of meat" as that strange voice called me. I just wanted to be born, to fill you with kisses, hugs, and tell you that you wee the best mother in the world. I wanted to be born to brighten your gloomy days and fill you with love and happiness and, occasionally, be mischievous. I thought of the moment when you and I would hug each other, laugh at one another, cry and comfort each other. Now I see that all my dreams are about to end.
As I was thinking this, the machine grabbed one of my tiny legs and detached it from me; then the other one. I yelled with pain, "Mommy! Mommy! Don't do this to me! I beg you mama, take this pain away from me. I promise I will not do anything that you don't like. Please, don't let me die! Please mama, I beg you!"
Then my right arm was clumsily detached. Full of pain, I pleaded with my mother not to let me die. Then the other arm was detached. As a baby that loves her mother, I kept fighting against the horrible device threatening. I didn't look like a normal baby any more. I had neither arms nor legs, but I didn't care. All I wanted was my mother to tell me that she loved me and wanted her to take this pain away from me. The end was close as some clamps destroyed my head and, with an "I love you" I said good-bye to my mama.
Mama, I only want to tell you that I forgive you and I love you. Don't suffer for me. I also want to ask you for a small favor. Tell the expecting mothers that what they have in their wombs is a baby that only wants to make them happy. (4)
I love you mama
I am writing this letter to all mothers that have aborted a child. I, a victim, write this letter from all of us who have died in the hands of evil. I want to tell all mothers to stop crying for our absence because we are fine here. Our dad, God, is happy to have us, however we would be happier if we were with our parents. We are very happy and pray to God for you, mothers, so that you would not abort more children, neither would you allow more children to die this way. I want to tell you my story and tell all mothers the reality of abortion.
I remember very well the moment that separated me from the most beautiful living paradise; the moment that a machine detached me from my mother's womb. I had just finished eating and was ready to go to sleep, as usual. Listening to my mother talking I heard a strange voice. This voice projected me fear and I cried. I remember my mother feeling uneasy and scared as I felt her heart beat going up rapidly. I felt a huge device approaching me. I remember yelling, "Mommy! Mommy! What are you doing to me?"
All of a sudden I felt this device trying to reach me to destroy me. Impatiently I yelled again much louder. With all my strength, I clung to the most beautiful thing I had, my mother. I remember very well thinking to myself, "Why are you the most beautiful woman in the world, the one with a loving heart and full of tenderness, doing this?"
I was only a defenseless baby, or a "piece of meat" as that strange voice called me. I just wanted to be born, to fill you with kisses, hugs, and tell you that you wee the best mother in the world. I wanted to be born to brighten your gloomy days and fill you with love and happiness and, occasionally, be mischievous. I thought of the moment when you and I would hug each other, laugh at one another, cry and comfort each other. Now I see that all my dreams are about to end.
As I was thinking this, the machine grabbed one of my tiny legs and detached it from me; then the other one. I yelled with pain, "Mommy! Mommy! Don't do this to me! I beg you mama, take this pain away from me. I promise I will not do anything that you don't like. Please, don't let me die! Please mama, I beg you!"
Then my right arm was clumsily detached. Full of pain, I pleaded with my mother not to let me die. Then the other arm was detached. As a baby that loves her mother, I kept fighting against the horrible device threatening. I didn't look like a normal baby any more. I had neither arms nor legs, but I didn't care. All I wanted was my mother to tell me that she loved me and wanted her to take this pain away from me. The end was close as some clamps destroyed my head and, with an "I love you" I said good-bye to my mama.
Mama, I only want to tell you that I forgive you and I love you. Don't suffer for me. I also want to ask you for a small favor. Tell the expecting mothers that what they have in their wombs is a baby that only wants to make them happy. (4)
I love you mama
******************
When I heard the tiny voice pleading for his life, I wanted to know more. So, on Saturday, I drove into the city (the mill is located at 2744 North Western Avenue, just south of the six corners intersection with Diversey and Elston Avenues, on the edge of the Logan Square neighborhood) to interview Father Lesniewski.
When I arrived at 9 A.M., a dozen people were in front of the mill, ignoring the roar of traffic while they prayed the Rosary and stood as witnesses for life; in front of them three children played quietly while a baby in a bassinette slept just a few feet from a building where so many innocent babies have been slaughtered. This is a gritty, dense, urban neighborhood where almost every ethnic group known to man is represented, and a seemingly endless parade of local denizens surged by. Few passersby, however, paid the prayer warriors any heed, and walked past without slowing their gait or turning their heads.
When I heard the tiny voice pleading for his life, I wanted to know more. So, on Saturday, I drove into the city (the mill is located at 2744 North Western Avenue, just south of the six corners intersection with Diversey and Elston Avenues, on the edge of the Logan Square neighborhood) to interview Father Lesniewski.
When I arrived at 9 A.M., a dozen people were in front of the mill, ignoring the roar of traffic while they prayed the Rosary and stood as witnesses for life; in front of them three children played quietly while a baby in a bassinette slept just a few feet from a building where so many innocent babies have been slaughtered. This is a gritty, dense, urban neighborhood where almost every ethnic group known to man is represented, and a seemingly endless parade of local denizens surged by. Few passersby, however, paid the prayer warriors any heed, and walked past without slowing their gait or turning their heads.
At the busy intersection life went on as usual; a vender hawked Sunday Tribunes while another hustled bottles of "iced cold water, one buck." Several girls--not much younger than those inside the mill--held up signs advertising a carwash, CTA busses lumbered by, cars honked their horns, music blared from open windows, and baseball fans swarmed towards Wrigley Field; all looked blissfully unaware of the horrors taking place under a sign proclaiming Women's Medical Center. Their ignorance reminded me of Auschwitz, Dachau and Treblinka and the German civilians who claimed after the war, "We didn't know this was a death camp."
At 9:20 Fr. Lesniewski finished counseling a couple in an SUV (who had stopped in the bus stop) and said he would have time to talk because the next batch of mothers wouldn't arrive until ten. I intended to begin my interview by asking if any babies had been saved as a direct result of parents listening to the Letter. I was going to follow up by asking how the mother's companions, particularly the fathers, react to hearing the Letter. Before I could start, God answered better than any man could have.
A black sedan, its tires screeching as it made a hard right turn into the parking lot, caught our attention. Armed with only a handful of papers, Fr. Lesniewski rushed to fight the devil for the life of a baby and the souls of his parents. In a friendly voice he greeted them, offered some literature, and asked if he could please speak with them before they went inside; next to him, a woman knelt on the hard concrete silently praying for their baby. He looked confident because he not alone--the Holy Spirit bolstered his courage and formed the right worlds in his mouth to triumph over an unspeakable evil.
I watched from a distance as he pleaded with them in Spanish for the life of their baby. He showed the mother pictures of the babe growing inside her womb and explained the humanity of her child, because he could not save the baby unless he saved the mother.
After about ten minutes the couple agreed to listen to the CD and followed Fr. Lesniewski to the parking lot of the Citgo gas station next door. They sat silently side-by-side on a metal guard railing, their backs to the abortuary; the father appeared arrogant and aloof-his gaze shifted from looking down at his shoes to up at the sky, while the mother looked embarrassed as the haunting Carta de un Nino Abortado echoed above the noise of the city. Soon his demeanor changed to uncomfortable while tears began to well up in the mother's eyes. She rummaged through her purse for a tissue to stem the flow of tears. Was she experiencing a conversion of the heart?
Time seemed to move slowly; every prayer warrior dropped to their knees and joined their voices in asking God to intercede on behalf of the pre-born baby. The couple was visibly affected by what they were hearing; soon the mother started sobbing uncontrollably. It was then that Fr. Lesniewski returned with a young girl, perhaps two years old, who handed each of them a Rosary. I couldn't help but wonder if she was aware that God was using her sincere smile to save a life.
Among the horror miracles do happen. As the young couple hugged, Fr. Lesniewski smiled at me and said "Praise God-a save." I never did get to interview him because he took the parents-to-be to the Women's Center where they will receive the help and guidance necessary to become a family.but I could not write a better ending to the story of how their family began.
As I walked to my car the words of Luke 5:7 came to mind, "I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." (New International Version) And I stopped to rejoice and give praise to God for answering my questions so dramatically.
Epilogue: Lest you think that the timing of this save was no big deal, I ask you to consider that, on the same Saturday morning just a few miles to the northwest, twenty nine mothers kept their appointments at Albany abortion mill. However, one mother changed her mind after talking with the sidewalk counselors. That is why we must get the Letter into as many sidewalk counselors' hands as possible. More Letters equals more saved babies. (3)
(1) If you would like to learn more about sidewalk counseling you can visit the Pro-Life Action League's website, www.prolifeaction.org or call (773) 777-2900. In addition to sidewalk counseling training courses, the League offers an excellent video, No Greater Joy, for $19.95 ($29.95 if you would like the video, a booklet, a fetal model and sample literature.
(2) Even though their baby had not yet been born, I refer to the parents as father and mother because if you have an abortion you do not become not-pregnant, you become the parents of a dead baby.
(3) If you would like a CD of Letter from an Aborted Child send $5.00 to Dan Gura, Post Office Box 848, Lake Zurich, Illinois 60047. I will also make two copies for sidewalk counselors to use in saving babies.
(4) The letter is printed in English and Spanish on festive paper decorated with a multi-colored border of pairs of babies feet. [example above]
At 9:20 Fr. Lesniewski finished counseling a couple in an SUV (who had stopped in the bus stop) and said he would have time to talk because the next batch of mothers wouldn't arrive until ten. I intended to begin my interview by asking if any babies had been saved as a direct result of parents listening to the Letter. I was going to follow up by asking how the mother's companions, particularly the fathers, react to hearing the Letter. Before I could start, God answered better than any man could have.
A black sedan, its tires screeching as it made a hard right turn into the parking lot, caught our attention. Armed with only a handful of papers, Fr. Lesniewski rushed to fight the devil for the life of a baby and the souls of his parents. In a friendly voice he greeted them, offered some literature, and asked if he could please speak with them before they went inside; next to him, a woman knelt on the hard concrete silently praying for their baby. He looked confident because he not alone--the Holy Spirit bolstered his courage and formed the right worlds in his mouth to triumph over an unspeakable evil.
I watched from a distance as he pleaded with them in Spanish for the life of their baby. He showed the mother pictures of the babe growing inside her womb and explained the humanity of her child, because he could not save the baby unless he saved the mother.
After about ten minutes the couple agreed to listen to the CD and followed Fr. Lesniewski to the parking lot of the Citgo gas station next door. They sat silently side-by-side on a metal guard railing, their backs to the abortuary; the father appeared arrogant and aloof-his gaze shifted from looking down at his shoes to up at the sky, while the mother looked embarrassed as the haunting Carta de un Nino Abortado echoed above the noise of the city. Soon his demeanor changed to uncomfortable while tears began to well up in the mother's eyes. She rummaged through her purse for a tissue to stem the flow of tears. Was she experiencing a conversion of the heart?
Time seemed to move slowly; every prayer warrior dropped to their knees and joined their voices in asking God to intercede on behalf of the pre-born baby. The couple was visibly affected by what they were hearing; soon the mother started sobbing uncontrollably. It was then that Fr. Lesniewski returned with a young girl, perhaps two years old, who handed each of them a Rosary. I couldn't help but wonder if she was aware that God was using her sincere smile to save a life.
Among the horror miracles do happen. As the young couple hugged, Fr. Lesniewski smiled at me and said "Praise God-a save." I never did get to interview him because he took the parents-to-be to the Women's Center where they will receive the help and guidance necessary to become a family.but I could not write a better ending to the story of how their family began.
As I walked to my car the words of Luke 5:7 came to mind, "I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." (New International Version) And I stopped to rejoice and give praise to God for answering my questions so dramatically.
Epilogue: Lest you think that the timing of this save was no big deal, I ask you to consider that, on the same Saturday morning just a few miles to the northwest, twenty nine mothers kept their appointments at Albany abortion mill. However, one mother changed her mind after talking with the sidewalk counselors. That is why we must get the Letter into as many sidewalk counselors' hands as possible. More Letters equals more saved babies. (3)
(1) If you would like to learn more about sidewalk counseling you can visit the Pro-Life Action League's website, www.prolifeaction.org or call (773) 777-2900. In addition to sidewalk counseling training courses, the League offers an excellent video, No Greater Joy, for $19.95 ($29.95 if you would like the video, a booklet, a fetal model and sample literature.
(2) Even though their baby had not yet been born, I refer to the parents as father and mother because if you have an abortion you do not become not-pregnant, you become the parents of a dead baby.
(3) If you would like a CD of Letter from an Aborted Child send $5.00 to Dan Gura, Post Office Box 848, Lake Zurich, Illinois 60047. I will also make two copies for sidewalk counselors to use in saving babies.
(4) The letter is printed in English and Spanish on festive paper decorated with a multi-colored border of pairs of babies feet. [example above]
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